


Only In A Dream.

by fearless_seas



Series: the crooked pieces of our galaxy [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Character Development, Developing Relationship, Heartbreak, Implied Sexual Content, Jealousy, M/M, Messy, Personal Growth, Unhappy Ending, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 21:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16920615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearless_seas/pseuds/fearless_seas
Summary: "You make me want things I cannot have."





	Only In A Dream.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request from @godbastian OF MANY SEWIS REQUESTS BHAHA. Hope you all enjoy! Kinda long for what is supposed to be a drabble lmao oops.

Lewis has conditioned himself to subtle actions. Eyes trailing down the pit lane or arms around slender, trembling shoulders. Fingers that linger longer than they should, eyes drifting after his shadow has left a room. It feels like decades ago it all began. Back when Sebastian’s hair was long enough to tug your fingers endlessly through. So, Lewis does this, when his head’s in his lap, and his eyes are shut gently with exhaustion.

The first morning he woke up beside him, he waited until sunlight painted the inner walls of the room and Sebastian’s nose twitched awake .  It steals Lewis’s breath away when he turns over and the sunrise sprinkles golden birthmarks across the surface of his shoulders . His hair, a halo breaking over the crown of his curls.

“Good morning,” Sebastian grins playfully as he faces him. It takes a moment for this to register. Their cheeks turn red as he struggles in a slice of silence.

Lewis has it, resting idle on the tip of his tongue: _**you make me want things I cannot have**_. His lips open, then shut. When they pry once again he withers, “I think you should leave.” A lie.

Sebastian doesn’t argue. He deflates, pausing before sliding out of the bed and reaching to gather his clothes off of the floor. A few minutes later, he is gone, shutting the door and leaving as he  was told . There’s only the scent of cinnamon carrying in the air, that and the obvious absence of life. Lewis doesn’t get angry often, especially not with himself, but he puts his fist through the wall.  He can only remember how his blue eyes welled and he kept staring over his shoulder expecting to  be stopped or coaxed back into his bed with open, yearning arms . It’s an empty anger: regretful yet filled with an insurmountable amount of emotion. That everything he’s been searching for only existed in his dreams. How do you explain something when even you don’t understand it at all?

It happens again and again, time and time afterward. Sebastian begins picking up his clothing and exiting without  being demanded . He leaves, in his absence, the summer of his skies and the glory of his days: a space imprinted in the bed. Everything else was obsolete with him. A year and a half later, Lewis wakes and Sebastian is shuffling about, grabbing for his things. Lewis  practically shouts it:

“Do you want to stay?”

It catches Sebastian off guard. So much so, he pauses to allow the phrase to color his senses for a moment. “If you want me to,” he mutters  incoherently . There isn’t a hint of spit in his vocals.  Perhaps an understandable amount of wary energy with distrust and fear. He crawls back between the cover and falls asleep. The sun isn’t up yet but the years have taken a toll of his face, it’s evident. A new wrinkle between his brow, hair shorter and shorter by season and eyes that hold a new twinkle of wisdom.  A whisper across the closed, hazy atmosphere, it shatters the peaceful illusion of reticence:

“ **You make me want things I cannot have.** ”

Sebastian hums in his slumber, “Then take what it is you want.”

He always found a way to make everything so simple. So easy.

The second time he near begs him to stay, he does. The third time too and the fourth. Suddenly a year of this has passed. Sebastian wins a second world title and Lewis is frustrated he cannot fight at all. He doesn’t realize it but his hands have become rougher, almost furious on confident hips beneath him. Lewis leaves a beach of fingernail marks on the flesh of his back.

At the commencement of another season, Sebastian passes less nights in his bed.  Maybe it was the losing or the team or how Seb appeared to be growing up and out his reach. But it culminates one night.  Skin sticky with sweat, sheets tangled at the foot of the bed and Sebastian inspecting the marks on his skin with a wince .

“Why do you do that?”, he questions stiffly, but not to make a scene.

It was peering towards him without an answer. Glancing with a pant, a knot in the base of his throat and a hollow chest. Sebastian’s spine shifts  uncomfortably beneath the pale skin of his back.  Maybe it was how his cheeks had lost that naive shine and he couldn’t stand his smile any longer.

Sebastian turns to him and his eyes blink tiredly. “I think we should talk–”

“You should leave.”

It’s a slap in the face. A brittle gasp across the tension clinging to the air encircling them. The years meant nothing. But it shocks his rival more than it did to the boy years before. Sebastian moves  slowly as he makes his way towards the door without bothering to dress. Everything is still as though they both were holding their breaths.

The door opens.

“Nothing was keeping me from leaving. So why did I stay in the first place?”

The door shuts.

And Lewis never felt more alone in all his life. He desires to shout after him:

“ **You make me want things I cannot have.** ”

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t put his first through the wall either. Instead, he curls his legs up to his chest, slipping to the floor of a room that is not his own.

Sebastian wins two more championships.

It takes him six years before Lewis wins another.

Sebastian always looked good in red.

Not that Lewis ever got the courage to tell him.

Occasionally , he’ll peer across the paddock and Seb’s postulated without a care.  His countenance and expression give the impression he has lived a thousand years and  is excited for a thousand more . Lewis wonder if he ever thinks of what they could’ve been iIf only he wasn’t a coward). He knows he does.  In every sad, hopeful song there’s a distant melody and in each breaking sunrise there’s a pulse; a lost beat that bleeds of the both of them .  Achingly , it dies away with the days, as the moon  eventually replaces the light. But it’s always there: the dawn.

2017\.  Lewis catches a glance of Sebastian across a room and he realizes for the first time it’s  nearly been nine years since it all began . He reaches across the distance and places a hand on the cusp of his shoulder while he turned away. He stiffen because even as he hasn’t yet turned around, he knows exactly who it is. 

“Hey,” Sebastian smiles first. But there’s a distance in how he doesn’t shake his hand or brush his arm. The colorful lights glitter across his eyes like the sea waves beneath moonlight.

Lewis knows then that everything has changed.

They talk about years that have passed on the balcony, the party left behind. The moon is pale on the horizon, shines off his hair. It doesn’t matter where they are, there is a light that always follows him. Wherever he goes. Whenever they go. So he’s thirty now but there is that same innocence that shutters with each flutter of his eye lashes. His jaw is sharper and his tone is wiser. His hand dangles over the edge, reaching towards the terrace. In one slow movement, Lewis reaches to places his hand over his.

Sebastian’s gaze glances down to the interaction. “What are you doing?”, his voice is thick and he swallows.

Lewis pales and moves his eyes away. “Nothing,” he mutters.

He’ll never admit how that sunk into like a dagger.

“We…”, Sebastian sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, “That ended a long time ago.”

“I know.” The silence, they’re standing further apart now and the soft comfort between them is gone. The music pounds through the glass behind them. “You’ve changed,” Lewis picks a petal off of a flower in the pot.

“We all do.”

“You’re different,” he drops it over the balcony and the wind carries it god knows where. Perhaps to the place where all life and lovely things began.

“I’m not too different, Lewis,” anyone could hear the bitter words emerging from the quietus: _it’s not my fault_. _You walked out of my life and decided to come back._ “I didn’t change, I grew up,” that says: _I can’t help that you weren’t there for it_.

He has the scent of sweet cologne and feels like a dream…

He supposes, nothing really changed at all, in the end.

Sebastian makes a move backwards to pass through into the large room once again. In one sharp reaction, Lewis lurches for his wrist, riding his back. “Wait, Seb, please. Just wait.”

Sebastian is a fair man. Always has. So, he turns back and waits for what’s to come. What strikes Lewis is the flinch of hurt in his eye. Like a painful memory has been dragged up from the deep within his core. It’s been long buried but not forgotten. “Okay,” he stiffens, “I’m waiting.” As he always does. But his patience has been gone since that last time he was told to leave. Maybe he doesn’t care anymore.

“I care about you,” he starts, “I always have. Something has always been missing, always. It was you. I met you and slowly… it all felt right. Waking up to you was somehow a home to me.. like you changed me, altered my world.”

Sebastian doesn’t budge, “Then why did you push me away?”

“I–”, but he has nothing to say. “Because you…”, he shrugs but his grip remains locked to Sebastian’s wrist like begging him to stay. So he speaks the only thing that matters: “ **You make me want things I cannot have.** ”

Sebastian sighs, his attention drifts to the millions of stars twinkling under a navy swirl of illuminated darkness . “But nobody has stopped you.”

“I know and I’m sorry,” something he discloses once in a lifetime. But all things, especially Seb are just that: once in a lifetime occurrences.

Sebastian frowns, “Didn’t you notice? You changed, not me.” He was always there, within his reach and Lewis was  simply too afraid of touch it. “You’re always winning, so now you want things to go back?”, he steps forward, “Right? Everything is going your way.” Lewis moves back. They’re chest to chest, so close he can feel his breath as it rises like little plumes into the frigid night air.

A fist crumples together, “Jealous?” He scoffs, “You think I was jealous of you?”

Sebastian shakes his head, softly and sadly. “But you didn’t like it when I was happy.”

Lewis chews on this. Line by line, slices it up in his head. _But you didn’t like it when I was happy._

He eases off of the touch. Shielding himself, his face is shadowed from view. But nothing has changed. Lewis finally understands, a vague hope is gone:

_Nothing is going to change this, is it?_

Sebastian made up his mind a long time ago. He was too far out of his reach.

“I’m going to leave,” he dismisses himself. He doesn’t wait to be told, doesn’t halt or glimpse over his shoulder. He leaves Lewis, on the balcony, under the brimming glow of endless galaxies all alone. He only thinks: _you did this to yourself_. His heart, it runs in merciless miles. Empty circles. A shaking breath leaves him as he shuts his eyes. Cool, brushing wind stumbles across his features. He goes back to that night. The last night.

Sebastian shifts towards him and the mattress creaks beneath his weight, “We need to talk.”

He says: “Of course.”

And they talk.

He drags him  slowly into his arms where he belongs. Soft voices and melodic tones, he has to move into to hear him. Kisses the words right off of his lips. He’s warm and the fingers shuddering over his jaw are cold. Lips rough like miracles; long awaited ones.

Lewis opens his eyes.

And the night sky reminds him too much of him.

 **A** s every sunrise already does.

Whenever he shuts his eyes, he imagines this. The false memory of it all.

How he said, “Of course.”

Instead of telling him to leave.

And everything feels whole again, only in his dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed: don't forget to appreciate your artist's work by commenting or giving kudos. You get content for free and your artists put a lot of work into giving out content for you all! My Tumblr is @pieregasly and thanks for reading!


End file.
